Closed Damsel in Distress (Zandelia)

[Caela Dorin]

11th Summer 514AV

It was hot, hotter for Caela because she'd only just finished her work for the day. Her face was flushed, a sheen of sweat glittering on her skin in the last of Syna's light. The doors to the tavern had been propped open to try to circulate some air about the place but the sheer number of bodies in the establishment meant that the air did little to relieve the heat inside. The day was coming to a close, Syna just beginning to kiss the horizon, and with her descent came the patrons of the Pig's Foot. The dancer had managed to commandeer a seat for herself before the crowds got too great but even so she was left feeling almost claustrophobic as bodies pressed against and around the table where she sat. The young woman was reluctant to leave her seat to get herself a drink but she had no choice. She knew that her employer would be rushed off his feet already behind the bar so he wasn't going to carry a drink over to her, even if she could somehow catch his attention over the heads of the customers. The dancer contemplated asking one of the men at her table to go get a drink for her but she didn't like how that might be perceived. She could always ask them to mind her seat but that was probably a useless endeavour. Someone was bound to take it no matter what she said.

Grudgingly the seat was given up for lost and the dancer fought her way to the bar. Elbows and hands fought back as she pushed her way through but she persevered, reaching her destination feeling more than a little bruised. Even after all that it was a few chimes before she was served the bitter wine. She had to take a swig of it before moving away to reduce spillage, her face contorting as the sour liquor ran down her throat. It'd grow on her after awhile but by then the drink would be gone and she'd have to go through the same bitter ordeal all over again if she wanted more. She intended it to be her last drink for tonight.

Outside seemed a better option than a cramped interior of the tavern right now. At least out there, it was possible for her to get some air that wasn't stale from a roomful of people breathing it in already. It was cooler and less noisy as well, which was a definite bonus. A wall away from the doors became the dancer's drinking spot as she leaned against its cool surface. Syna's light was all but gone from this area of Sunberth, the nearby alleys taking on the darker hues that were Leth's domain.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment's peace as she sipped at her drink. It was still loud out here but it wasn't being heard in such close quarters anymore at a volume that would leave her ears ringing. At least this way, it could almost be filtered out. Almost but not quite. She found herself moving just a little further from the tavern, eyes opened once more as she scanned a nearby alley that was becoming more shadowy by the chime. She wouldn't go down it as much as she was inclined to right now although she came close before turning back towards the tavern. It was when she was beside the doors that they made themselves known.

One appeared from the entranceway to block her path and others came from an alley she hadn't looked down. She saw them from the corner of her eyes and turned her head to look at them without thinking. Her gaze fell on one that she recognised immediately. Caela didn't know his name but the sight of him and his triumphant smile made her mouth to dry. This was the quiet, calculating man who she had saved Jaka from, the one who she'd been afraid would come after her that night afterwards for revenge. The one she'd told that she worked here. The look in his eye was much the same to the one that had filled his gaze a few nights before. It was an expression that made her feel deeply uneasy. He looked almost gleeful to have caught her alone and off guard after she'd forgotten about him entirely. He'd brought friends and instead of running immediately she stared.

"Here's the little tart now. The one with high notions. You see her dance?" he asked his friends, his voice a sneer. "She was practically begging for it, little miss high and mighty or not." His friends seemed to like that because they laughed and Caela made a belated run for it. Too late. Someone grabbed her hair, fingers twisting into it painfully before she was pulled back. The pitcher in her hand fell to the ground, the remainder of the wine splashing the ground as she staggered backwards trying to regain her balance. The pain of the pull brought a strangled sob from her throat that she almost choked on as her legs were knocked from under her and most of the wind was knocked out of her. Only then was the hold released when she was left panting on the ground.

The peace was short lived as someone started to drag her up, trying to hoist her onto their shoulder. She screamed, the sound weak without much air behind it. It earned her a smack on the side of her head but the dancer sucked in air rapidly for more shrieking, struggling against the arms that tried to lift her. Another scream, this one louder, high pitched from fear.

There were people just in there, just a few feet away but she was being dragged now, getting further away from hopes of rescue. And who was going to care?

x

[Zandelia]

Summer had appeared, coalescing its sharp and penetratingly searing rays out of the murky fogs of winter in but a few days to slam into the city of Sunberth with a force she remembered but had not felt in years. The first score of days were always the worst, hitting the denizens hard as they were ever un-expecting of its appearance. Business became difficult as the days grew longer though more profitable for the same reasons. Taverns got the best of it, drink was a staple requirement more than ever in the harsh heat - especially considering that fresh water was difficult to come by unless you knew where to look. Or had managed to make the right friends. With it came the chancers, the skulkers who could never quite handle the rigors of winter but who in summer fancied themselves a force to be reckoned with. It never failed to amuse her how weak willed some people could be. Everyone suffered to be true but it took a special kind of bastard to mooch off of others for one season and then try and take from their saviors the next.

She didn’t even try to pretend that she herself was not suffering the sudden changes in weather, she could feel the sweat soaking her undergarments and sticking them to her skin beneath her armor. She had to hand it to Fallon, she wore her weaponry and armor every day despite their weight and having chosen to try it for herself she had a newfound respect for the endurance of the woman. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and it came away sodden, fingers teased her damp hair away from her eyes as she sat upon a crate outside the Trotter Trough. She looked down the street and saw few people walking, most had chosen to seek shelter indoors but Zandelia had had enough of interiors for a while now. Fallon was finally free and mobile and she took to her own freedom with the same eagerness - not out of dislike of the company, far from it, but merely because she had not had the chance for some time.

“Jarral,” she muttered to the man lurking in the shade beside her, sitting against the wall with his customary bowl, suspiciously empty as always, “how has business been for Ballack and Davra?”

“Good so far, very quiet. I think the thugs got the messages well enough. Seem to have backed off for now and they bloody love you for it. Making some decent coin too, why?”

“I am thinking that we need to re-appropriate some of their gold”

“Steal you mean?” he asked her in surprise.

“No no, invest. They are each just one trader. They could become more”

“You mean…take over the markets? Really?!”

“More like encourage them to tell the others how their business is so well protected now thanks to certain…individuals”

“I see…clever. Draw the others in with the honeyed promises?”

“Just so,” she stated calmly as she considered the net steps to be taken, “see to it”

“Yes, mistress Web”

“I am no one’s mistress”

“Right, and that’s why you have the wolf girl under your sway and command loyalty where none should be due?”

“I am just a woman”

“Suit yourself. I will be back in a few days”

She watched him amble along, back hunched though she knew he could walk perfectly well, and haranguing passer’s by into giving up their coppers to stop him bothering them further. He was a genius at what he did and no mistake. She could ask for nothing more from him than he gave her, and more besides. She turned her head as another exited the tavern, the dancing girl she had seen captivating those within with her routines of temptation and grace. A pretty little slip of a youth, filled with the desires of most of her age she thought. She considered talking but the girl turned away and clearly sought out solitude and so she returned to her silent contemplation, though now there were thoughts of dancing the way the girl did for a certain Wolf. It would be fun to see the reaction, though she was not entirely sure there would be words so much as action.

“Probably get a slap fordoing it in public and then perhaps something nicer once her face was less crimson” she chuckled to herself.

Her happy ruminations were cut short by the appearance of the thugs three of them and clearly intent upon a deed that Zandelia considered beyond vile. She was beginning to find a moral compass of sorts, though much she still considered open for play that others balked at. Yet rape…rape was unforgivable. Coldly she took a few moments to assess the situation, watch the men move and take note of their weaponry. Simple lowlifes with not a copper’s worth of true armor amongst them and what weapons they had were daggers as far as she could see. Simple enough and far more enjoyable of a good deed than most other things. She pushed herself off of the crate as the screams began and approached the door, catching it as it opened and looking at the mercenary about to step through - Nathan she knew him as.

“Ah Nathan, good man. Go and tell Merv that his dancer girl is being assaulted and that the three responsible will be available for his workers shortly. I’m very sure he will want to make an example” she fixed him with a hard, unflinching stare and he nodded after licking his lips once and turned back.

They were alone.

“There are many things that I loathe gentleman, but opening a young girl’s legs without her permission is something I take balls for. Are we sure we want to continue this?” she asked them as she slowly pulled the tonfa from her hip and shifted the handles into her palm, fingers curling.

“And who are you as can stop us? She wants me, always has. Can see it in her eyes and the way she dances for me” the obvious leader spat at her.

“Doesn’t look like she wants it to me,” she stated, looking past him to make sure the girl was safe for now, “maybe she doesn’t like men. Or maybe she just doesn’t like rum-pot, warrior want to be’s who smell of stale piss shifting beneath her. I can understand her on that score, not very attractive to lay with now”

“Why you little whore!” she screamed at her as he stepped forwards.

And that was the insult that snapped her, she knew she had been a whore - had been used for vile acts herself - and he had decided to tell her so, to her face, whilst trying to rape another. He couldn’t have known but all desire to be reasonable, to preserve life however wretched, evaporated with the puddles under Syna’s gaze. She gave them no opportunity to react as she slide forwards smoothly to bring her left tonfa spinning into his ribs, stepping past him to pivot and crack the right into the back of his skull. She was amongst them now, a force of wrathful retribution, spinning and ducking to bring both tonfa across the second’s left kneecap with a sickening crunch. He had been holding the dancing girl over his shoulder but now collapsed with her atop him and slamming into his chest hard.

The third went to turn to run and she bore down on him, kicking out at the back of his knee so that he crumpled forwards. Tonfa strikes rained down upon his back as she span them vertically and snapped her wrists at the last moment to add velocity to the blows. She stamped on the back of his head and his face poured blood upon the dirt beneath him. She turned, slipping her tonfa back into their place at her hip and pulled the girls from the cursing second thug. She kicked him viciously in the ribs repeatedly until she stopped moving. Breathing heavily she cast her gaze about - all three were unconscious but still their chests moved, if erratically. They would regret their lives once Merv had a hold of them.

“And that, is what you get for calling me a whore in my own watering hole,” she spat at the ground, “bastards”

“You alright….Caela isn’t it? Dancing girl?” she asked between half-panted breaths.

“Web!” Merv appeared and tutted at the bodies, sucking through his teeth.

“Merv, these men just tried to have a free ride with your dancer. Might want to enforce your own laws on them eh?” she informed him.

“Right…right! Lads!” she gestured and a few heavily armed mercenaries dragged the three around the corner, to disappear forever most likely.

“Caela,” she spoke softly, “don’t know about you but I could use a drink hmm? Come, I have a room inside, upstairs. Would you like to join me?”

[Caela Dorin]

There was no one to help her. Merv would be too far away to know what was going on as he was inside, ignorant of what was happening to his dancer. There would be no mercenary protection this day, no protection at all and her greatest fear, which she had avoided for so many years, was finally becoming a reality. She couldn't fight back, couldn't pull herself free. Helpless, defenceless, easy pickings. She wished that she'd done more to find someone to teach her how to fight. But she had no way to defend herself. Too weak, too pathetic.

Her mind tried to shut down, shying away from the horror of what was to come. She tried to pretend that it wasn't happening but she was plagued by selfish thoughts. She should never have interfered, should have let that girl, Jaka, get raped. If she'd minded her own business then she would have been left alone, safe. Anything instead of this.

A woman's voice.

The sound reached her ears but the words didn't make sense to her, her brain treating what she was hearing like a foreign language. Bits of what she said made there way through to her addled brain. It was something to do with what was happening, what was going to happen. She shied away from where that line of thought was heading.

A male voice then, one that she had only just heard. He was the reason for all this. It sent a shiver down her spine and a whimper escaped her lips. A certain tone of voice from the woman then, sarcastic or mocking, Caela didn't know. It wasn't a nice sort of tone. Whatever the woman said caused an angry exclamation to rise from the man, the word 'whore' hitting her with the force of a whiplash. She didn't know that it wasn't directed at her. After that everything was a haze. Her mind had become sluggish, lazy, only reacting to and translating some of the outside stimuli. As a result only vague impressions of what was happening filtered through to her.

Rapid movement, sounds of pain, the sounds of something hitting flesh, bone. The man holding her buckled beneath her limp form, causing her to land on top of him as he lay on the ground. Somehow from there she went to standing on very shaky legs. A nearby wall became a support, stopping the young woman from becoming a puddle on the pavement.

The sound of her name made her head jerk up, her body flinching away at the same time. Wide eyes fixed on the woman's face as the girl's head bobbed up and down, agreeing with something that she hadn't even heard. It was just a reaction, something that her body still remembered how to do. She didn't have any idea what this strange, fierce woman had asked but the intensity of her expression made the young woman meek and agreeable, only wanting to be left alone. She didn't want any trouble.

Merv showed his friendly and familiar face and Caela couldn't repress the urge to laugh. She collapsed, giggling hysterically, against the wall. She gripped her face in her hands, spluttering against the softness of her palms, which she realised were wet. That was funny too for some reason and it took a chime to recover some level of sanity to pull them away. At that stage, her attackers had been dragged away. The woman who seemed to be her rescuer was speaking to her in a gentle voice, the closest thing to kindness that Caela had encountered for a long time.

She began to sob, gasping in air desperately as she started to choke on her own tears. She went to cover her face with her hands again and saw the red through bleary vision. There was blood on her hands. It made the crying worse as she panicked at the sight of it. She didn't have enough of her wits about her to even wonder where the red stains had come from. The girl had to suck in breaths to try to get some air to her brain. Then she began to reel herself in a little, at least trying to make herself somewhat like a human again.

When she was able to straighten and breathe a little more calmly, she touched her hand to her face again, tracing a line of blood up to her scalp. When her hair had been pulled, it must have torn her scalp. She'd know when she looked in a mirror, not that she was certain that she wanted to anytime soon.

Pushing herself away from the wall, she tottered unsteadily towards her rescuer. "Yes. I think I could do with a drink. Now," she replied weakly. She was more than willing to follow this woman to the ends of the world right now. And if she was going to be nice to her then Caela wasn't going to do anything to piss her off. If she hadn't come along then what would have happened didn't bear thinking about.

Word Count848 words

x

[Zandelia]

The young woman was clearly in a state and Zandelia couldn’t find anything to fault her with for being so. She remembered the days spent after being used for such vile acts and what they had brought to her as a younger woman. She would not have wished it upon anyone and found a small portion of redemptive triumph in the fact she had prevented it from being repeated upon another. Still, giggling hysterically and sobbing alternately outside the tavern was far from safe, not to mention bad for Merv’s business. The Pig’s Foot was more than a building after all, it was it’s people and its reputation also and anything to show weakness in those aspects of it reflected poorly upon the owner. She had handed Merv a way to reinforce his authority now and that would please him but it would not do to have it undone by his dancing girl being seen shattered to pieces. She stood before the girl and gave her a long yet soft look.

“Take a few moments to gather yourself Caela,” she spoke quietly yet the tone was not one to be ignored or disobeyed, “Merv likes you well enough, I think, but he can’t be seen to be unable to protect his workers. And your career means more if they can only see you as a siren temptress and not a tearful little girl. I mean no offense but it is not a perfect world” she finished with a slightly sad tone.

She took the opportunity to study Caela further, she had known of her and seen her often in her evenings spent in the smoke-filled tavern’s interior but had yet to truly cross paths with her. Green eyes were red-rimmed but still glittering though they were less emerald like her own singular orb. Smaller than she was yet still given the illusion of being by the long legs apparent in all successful practitioners of the dancing art. Classically pretty she supposed though she thought that a few more years would be needed before it would blossom into full maturity. She remembered she always seemed so full of energy and the love of the movement, always lacing through her lascivious routine but understandably absent at that moment. Cosmetics were apparent also, though she could not understand why - perhaps she was insecure or merely liked to flirt with vanity. Either way she seemed a well put together creature, almost too well put together in some ways.

I wonder how much is truly her and how much is a front for the world at large, a kind of armor created from self-expressionism of art rather than of blade or shadow. She could be useful if this doesn’t break her, not to mention I have a few more personal matters I keep meaning to begin. Perhaps now is the sign it is time? she mused as she allowed the chimes to tick past until the gathering had been completed.

“Come come then, we just need to hold it together through the crowd. Let them see you proud and unchanged, it will give you a strength in their eyes. Do not listen to any gossip either I’d say” she sucked through her teeth and led them towards and through the door.

There was a small silence as they appeared, words had apparently spread all too quickly and everyone liked to know how a story ended. The door closed behind them with a thud in the momentary lull in their conversations. Heads had turned and were watching them carefully, though Zandelia placed herself before Caela to take the brunt of them all. There was a hesitaiton before one of them broke the silence and everyone else released a breath and were thankful it hadn’t been them. Eyes suddenly averted though ears were still very much engaged in the act of listening.

“What happened Web? We hard the screaming and the shouting. What eh?” a grizzled mercenary drawled at her accusingly.

“You know how it is with some people, won’t accept the message”

“What message?”

She let the silence deepen ever so slightly, theatrically perhaps.

“Not to piss me off, and you remember that Varesh and get the Hai out of our way” she grinned and the laughter erupted before people became lost in their own little worlds once more.

She shoved a path through the crowds, she doubted Caela would want to touch anyone just yet and she remembered how she had even spurned Fallon’s small hands a few times after feeling so sullied. It had been a source of much pain though recent events had only just caused her to begin revisiting and reassessing those years. She signaled for food and wine from the bar and Merv nodded simply and dismissed a barmaid to get on with the task as she took the steps slowly and made her way to the nearest empty room - it was as good as any. The fact that she had a room had been a white lie, something to encourage solitude and recovery in a space that was both easily defended and well provisioned.

She pulled up a chair, reversed it and straddled it before pointing to the bed for Caela to take - she needed the comfortable perch now she suspected.

“There, safe and secure and with some warm food and drink coming too soon enough,” she sniffed as she watched the girl and tried to assess her mental state, “so you’re a dancer? A very good once too from what I have seen. Don’t let this stop you, the city needs some joyous entertainment beyond blood pit fights I fancy. Damned cultural sink hole these days” she stated, aiming to strike up conversation in a safe area that wouldn’t cause any panic.

People often liked to talk about their careers and what they enjoyed doing and usually to the exclusion of all other thoughts. Conversation as to how she was coping and whether she were truly alright would naturally follow she assumed.

“I have watched you, you know. Quite good and in my youth I’d probably have tried to join in you know. Old age comes with its own expectations though. Can’t be seen to enjoy myself in such a manner, gods forbid that. Always got to be busy, working away and making the gold” she scoffed at that, she had too much gold to even know what to do with these days. She had no time for the shine of silver or the crustiness of copper.

“Tell me about yourself, what made you want to do it?” she asked, the door opening and her muscles tensing momentarily before she saw it was what she had asked for.

“Thank you Bethina, tell Merv everything is okay will you? And that I can talk with him about what other matters he might need help with soon enough” she stated as she pushed herself up and poured two cups of wine before returning and handing one to Caela, returning to her position with her own and sipping from it slightly.

[Caela Dorin]

Her rescuer didn't make a move to go inside immediately. Instead she tried to get Caela to pull herself together some more, or risk damaging Merv's reputation. The dancer nodded, understanding that it wouldn't be good for Merv at all if she looked like a quivering, frightened little girl, broken right outside his tavern.

She focused on her breathing, allowing herself to calm down and try to make some sort of return to reality. Her sense of awareness increased as she calmed down, became less self-absorbed as her breathing stabilised by itself. She began to take in details then. Sights, sounds, smells. Awareness of her rescuer's appearance came to her gradually, particularly her face. Caela stared openly at the woman's eye in horrified fascination before averting her gaze when she realised what she was staring at and shuddered. Other details came to the fore. The sharp metallic scent of blood that seemed to burn her nostrils on the way in, the way the side of her head pounded from a hit, the tingling sensation in her scalp. Movement revealed more aches and pains that would likely become ugly bruises overnight.

As sensation returned, the young woman couldn't help but wonder how she hadn't felt anything before. Whether from the hit to her head, loss of blood or the mere thought of it, she suddenly found herself feeling extremely dizzy. Eyes closed against the spinning of the alley and a hand moved to the wall to prop herself up. When her eyes opened the movement had stopped, if only temporarily, and she was fit to be seen in the tavern. Not counting the blood that must be in her blonde hair, she would look fine, strong even. Still, it took a large effort on her part to follow her saviour into the dim interior of the Pig's Foot.

Just act, smile like you're fine. You smile all the time when you dance and nobody knows that it isn't real, she told herself, trying to gain some strength before she stepped through the crowd. Her entrance was certainly noticed, the customers falling silent and staring as the pair entered. The dancer managed to keep her head up, if not held high and was able to muster some of the confidence that usually entered her stride. It was better than she could have hoped for seeing as she felt like curling into a ball on the floor and bawling her eyes out like a child. That reminded her that her eyes and face were probably blotchy from tears and that she'd have to wash it soon to remove the salt, to seem more recovered than she already appeared.

A mercenary revealed the name of her rescuer, although it was probably only a nickname: Web. She wondered idly where it might of come from and then shuddered slightly as her earlier assessment of the woman seemed to be confirmed by her words. She was not to be messed with and it would not do to be on her bad side.

Although Web made a path through the people so that Caela could get through, she couldn't prevent the whispers. The dancer heard parts of what they said as she slipped past, some of it sympathetic but a lot of it unkind to her ears. Ignoring it wasn't as easy as Web had made it sound as the dancer couldn't help herself from straining her ears to catch the words of the men she danced for, some of them regularly. Despite what she heard, she kept her head up, careful to keep her face from showing any emotion. Aloof was better than seeming to be on the brink of breakdown yet her facade was cracking. Trembling was beginning again in her legs and her body just wanted to drop but Caela fought on.

Her ascent upstairs was a careful one. Tripping up the stairs would not do her any good right now. The privacy of a room was a welcome thing and she allowed herself to collapse gratefully on the bed that her saviour indicated. The only thing that made her pull herself together again instead of indulging her emotions was the promise of food. That meant a barmaid and that meant another witness. It wouldn't do to frighten the girl with what could happen to her.

This Web was trying to initiate a conversation but Caela wasn't really that interested in talking. It was taking most of her concentration to make herself seem presentable when the barmaid came. She just nodded in response to the question, no more real input required on her part. She did listen though, ready to make an appropriate noise if and when it was required. The mention of old age grasped her attention though as it led her to scrutinise Web's face. Was she that old? The dancer took in the early beginnings of wrinkles, guessing her to be somewhere in her thirties, the early side rather than the later. Could she be older than she appeared or did this woman look her age and think that she was too old? Caela didn't know. If it was some sort of joke then it was lost on the dancer. Her brain wasn't equipped to handle anything humorous right now.

The question confused her as she hadn't been that attentive to what the woman had been saying. "Made me do what?" she asked, a note of alarm threading its way into her voice. Her first thought was that she was asking about why she had saved Jaka and caused what had happened outside. It clicked after a few ticks thought just as the barmaid came in bearing much needed alcohol.

"Dancing? Oh well I liked it when I was younger. Worked out that I could use it to my advantage. Twist men round my finger until they break. Sometimes they break the wrong way though," she murmured in reply as the barmaid left. The quality of her voice surprised her. It sounded like her own, yes but it didn't reflect how she was currently feeling. It seemed calm, almost matter-of-fact as she explained her motivations for her line of work. She'd also said more than she'd intended to say. Breaking men was not a good thing to say, especially without an explanation. It made her sound sadistic.

She laughed, shaking her head as she considered where her thoughts was going. She didn't want to have a bad view of men in front of this woman, was that it? It wasn't something that she should have been worrying about considering what had just happened. So an explanation was in order, if only a brief one. It wasn't wise to tell all your secrets in one go after all.

Taking the wine eagerly, she sipped it, enjoying the sourness of it for once. "I don't see why I shouldn't try to make men break by tormenting them. They broke my mother so I see it as a... fitting revenge really." She smiled grimly at her words before continuing. "The consequences though aren't usually so bad. I stopped one of them from luring a drunk girl out the other night and I knew then that he'd come but I forgot and I didn't-" The dancer broke off, voice unnaturally high. She went back to sipping her wine with shaking hands, trying to calm herself again.

Word Count1231 words

x

[Zandelia]

She sipped at her drink slowly, she was taking her time with assessing this one, she was not the usual type to be found within the city - or at least not to be found by herself. She associated more with mercenaries, killers, liars and con artists. They made up a small percentage of the denizens though, that much was true otherwise Sunberth would have imploded long ago into nothing but a scarred wasteland. It still stood partly because those with the powers of strength knew not to take too much to incense the populace to open revolt and partly because the majority of people whom lived in the city just wanted to get on with life and try to make things better for themselves wherever possible. She was relatively certain Caela was part of the second group of people though some of her words suggested she wished for some form of power, personal or otherwise.

And she laughed too, though perhaps regretted it afterwards. Or at least seemed to. Conflicted perhaps? Either way she plays a dangerous game indeed she mused to herself between small sips of wine, enjoying the small measure of warmth it was already generating within her - not the warmth of the sun but a pleasant, heady warmth.

“A good deed to be sure, though as they say no good deed goes unpunished. At least not without the means to prevent it from biting back,” she said in a thoughtful tone, “it is rare to see someone who intervenes on another’s behalf. It makes you intriguing. Usually such altruism is guided by motive - personal most often. I think I understand, from your other comment”

“Life is hard and it gets no easier as it continues, often gets much more difficult. I’d not let it get to you too much, I have had experience of such…things…in very brutal ways indeed. Learn from it, learn what you need for protection in the future. Then you can kick life back when it lashes out at you” she left her words there, no further explanation as to what she meant when talking about herself.

She wished she didn’t have to use such a method, her past was dark and filled with many sources of self-loathing. Her days as a slave, being used and abused, rated as the worst of them. Still, there was some common ground there despite the fact that Caela had not suffered the true end result of what could have been. A bridge of sorts that could be used to form a bond with this interesting youth. Form her words she gathered her mother had suffered though but she pressed that to one side. Such things should be told only if desired to be, not dragged out of them pitifully. She tilted her head and wondered what was best to do - words were useful but advice was often unheeded until it was too late. What could she give to perhaps gain something in return?

“Still, it is a virtuous profession compared to most. Brings much joy and fun to all, even if all they have done is watch like myself, world needs more like yourself I think” she grinned, “but perhaps I can help you in some ways to keep such things dreamily alive for longer. I can’t teach you to fight as well as myself but I can teach you to better defend yourself perhaps?” she made the offer.

“If that is seen as pointless then I can at least spread the word that anyone who seeks harm to you will deal with me, as well as Merv of course. I can’t be everywhere at one, though some people seem to think that I am. Burdens of the abilities it seems” she kept that portion cryptic intentionally, it would not do to reveal her true activities.

Curiosity is fine though, can’t do too bad with interest. And if she seems able enough perhaps a contract can be formed. Of sorts. We’ll see. One step at a time she noted firmly, she had rushed into things in the past and it had never worked out well for any party involved.

“Or you can rest here if you like, sleep for a while perhaps, and I will simply keep watch for a while, I have some things that I can do whilst I do so and I will be here when you awaken. I’d suggest that you eat at least though, it will do you some good” she gestured to the wooden platter upon the table against the wall.

It would be best if she walked herself if possible, to get the blood moving and work off the emotions of the situation. She would get it for her if asked though, she was not a cruel individual by nature. She wondered, truly, if Caela actually wanted to say or do anything at present. She knew how it could be if one were easily shaken when it came to psychological or physical shock. Perhaps she had spent too long living hard and had become numbed to most of those needles. Either way she presented the choices with a fond, warm smile and let the other woman decide what she wanted to do.

[Caela Dorin]

Calming down took time and was made more difficult by the other woman watching her. She was sure that her reactions were being assessed and dissected as she sat there shaking but that idea was probably her paranoia kicking in. The dancer was able to calm herself down by degrees, feeling slightly more at ease when Web was talking and she didn't think that she could be scrutinising her as intently.

Her thoughtfulness must have been infectious because Caela found that Web's words sent her off on new paths of thought. Good deeds could bite back if you couldn't deal with the consequences that doing them might bring upon you. The consequence of this one was that she'd been attacked and nearly raped because of her inability to do anything about it. She could remember the feeling of total helplessness, of weakness before this woman had saved her. The dancer couldn't rely on other people for her defence all the time and she knew it but when was she going to do something about it.

The last of what she said surprised the young woman though. Had she saved the girl in the first place because of a personal motive? She hadn't thought so at the time, had in fact been convinced that she had had no motive for once. Had it been a subconscious one then? A desire to prevent men from destroying another woman? Now that she thought about it,it was a definite possibility, one that she hadn't actually thought about before. Perhaps it hadn't been an entirely selfless act after all. It was strange that she hadn't seen it herself when a stranger who didn't even know her could do so.

The older woman's motive for saving her was hinted at. It was very vague but it seemed that she had suffered abuse at the hands of men. That was the only explanation for what the "things" were. She had certainly learned to fight back, judging by the way that she had dealt with Caela's attackers. Caela wished to learn how to fight back like that as well. She didn't ever want to be so helpless again. Perhaps this woman could help, although the young woman wasn't sure that she could inflict as much damage to another as Web had done.

The dancer was surprised by the topic change as they went back to talking about her job but she kept up. She wouldn't have described her profession as virtuous, far from it but she agreed with some of what Web said about her dancing. The first offer seemed strange to her as she wasn't sure how the woman could help. The second offer was a pleasant surprise though as if the woman had somehow read the desire from her thoughts. She found herself nodding, agreeing with the idea. If she could learn to defend herself better then she'd feel far more secure. She didn't want a rumour to go around though. She didn't want to be seen as weak and reliant on others.

"No. I don't want you to spread the word. I don't want people to think that I'm an easy target. I'm sure that there are a few people who would be encouraged rather than put off by such an idea," the dancer replied. "I want you to help me. You can fight, you can teach me. I can learn." She couldn't keep the hope from her voice. She needed to learn, needed to become her own master.

She considered the offer of sleep, uncertain whether or not to trust the woman. She had saved her after all but that didn't mean that she was trustworthy. It was something that she'd have to carefully consider. Food was probably a good idea though. The dancer raised herself on wobbly legs and tottered over to where the tray of food was. She picked it up and carried it back to the bed, dropping onto the soft surface with relief. She ate mechanically, hardly tasting what she was eating as she looked back at Web. The offer was still there, hanging between them and Caela had to admit that she was tired, or more accurately, weary so it was becoming more inviting by the moment.

Once most of the food was gone, she pressed her lips tightly together as she looked at the other woman, considering. At last she nodded. "I'll take you up on that offer... Web, is it?" The name seemed stranger to her now so she had to check. "I think I could sleep for a few days. That's how I feel right now. I'd be honoured to have you as my guard," she told her, a smile twitching the corners of her mouth up, even if it was only a faint one.

Word Count800 words

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[Zandelia]

“Very wise,” she almost murmured in between sips of wine, “too many people look to others for protection and seek nothing for their own growth in that regard. Protection through words, always the most easily bought and usually the easiest to undermine. I will not, then, tell anyone that I will harm them for harming you. Intelligence should be rewarded, even if in small increments” she continued in as solid and convincing tone of voice as she could - her working tone she had begun to see it is.

Not that this was work per se, she was aiding someone who had suffered and that - strange though the concept would have been to her only a season ago perhaps - gave her some modicum of self-worth. She had resolved to herself that, wherever possible, she would seek out the pointless cruelty and put and end to it. That merely masked the symptoms however and by perhaps giving this woman some instruction in the arts of defending herself she could instead kill such things at their sources. In this one case at least. She was not entirely sure why she had offered to do so, she usually liked to negotiate before giving up her abilities unto others. She had done it many times in order to get more out of any deal than the other persons involved. She tilted her head in a small amount of self-reflection.

She isn’t me…that’s it isn’t it? She could have been, so easily could have been driven down those darker paths. Could have been forced into years of bitterness and self-loathing. But she wasn’t…because I intervened. Does that make me responsible for making sure she doesn’t suffer it again? she asked herself and found no answers.

It was a strange affair truly. She didn’t hate herself for what she was, she had dealt with such things a number of years ago now and was at peace - largely - with who she was. Who she could become though…that was more unsettling. She did not see herself as a champion of others but, step by step, she was starting to see the need for champions. Under the right circumstances. No doubt her reasons for helping Caela were selfishly motivated, most motivations were selfish. Yet that didn’t make them any less worthwhile she thought. If the job was done, the darkness abated, then what made any difference to it being done by a noble warrior over a shady little bitch? Effective was effective after all. Her words came distantly as she thought things through.

“Yes, Web” she began, “and I can teach you many things to such an end. What you do with them, how effective they are…that is up to you. I can help you but ultimately the best way to learn how to truly fight is to actually do it. Such a time may come again and you will be the mistress of your fate that day” she turned the words over and over, wondering when she had really began to think in such ways.

Had it been when she had met Fallon? She knew the woman loved her despite all of her flaws, probably because of them she accepted. She was accepted for who she was and felt no need to change for another. Yet she was and she ignored that at her peril. She would need to keep an eye on herself she knew, she was beginning to grow beyond what she was before. She was still the spy, the net weaver and the occasional killer as and when required. She felt no need for mercy or nobility. She pursed her lips and nodded approvingly when the food was taken and Caela began to eat. Smiled at the acceptance of the offer for rest.

“Good, you will need it. I am afraid that I am not a gentle teacher. I will not harm you but you can expect bruises. Learning is pointless without a little pain. Indeed it is what most learning is based on, even if it is the pain of reading the same book dozens of times to learn it fully” she shrugged.

“Rest and recover, I will be here when you wake. Then we can start with the second lesson,” she stated matter-of-factly, “you passed the first. You learnt that you weren’t weak enough that you break under such pressures. Learn to harness that strength and you could do much for yourself” she stated and stepped away from the chair to pull the blanket out and threw it over the woman.

She turned around and pulled the chair and sat now with her ankles crossed and resting upon the table. She placed her tonfa and her daggers upon the table in a neat row so they were easily within reach and pulled out a book from the bag at her waist. Mathematics, she needed to learn numbers better and now sasswood a time as any to do so. She contemplated fetching her lute after a few moments and placed the book upon the table. She turned to see if Calea was resting - her eyes were closed but she was not sure if she was asleep.

“I will return in a moment,” she said softly and with that made her way to the bar and Merv.

“Merv….Merv!”

“How is she Web?”

“She’s fine. Resting. I need a favor”

“Not more blood surely?”

“No, I need someone to fetch something for me. Remember that present from Bitzer?’

“Aye” he nodded at her.

She gave him the directions tot heir present accommodations and returned to the room with Caela to await its arrival. Perhaps she could learn how to play a tune properly for Fallon for once. At that moment she also required good memories to stave off the rising dark of her own past.


oocFeel free to have her awaken to hearing Zand playing badly. I will leave how long she is asleep to you

[Caela Dorin]

It suddenly seemed as if she'd landed in the deep end. She'd been in the same amount of danger now as she had been in before. In her day to day life she had no special protection but yet now she felt that she actually needed protection whereas she hadn't felt that way before. The dancer had succeeded in making an enemy and while he seemed to have been well taken care of thanks to Web and Merv, Caela was more than capable of making more. So for her, saying no to protection was like agreeing to put herself in danger. She almost regretted her words then when Web pretty much complimented her on her desire for "growth" in her ability to protect herself. Learning meant mistakes and she wasn't sure that she liked the consequences that such mistakes could lead to. It was too later to ask for such protection now although maybe Merv would be willing to help if she asked. Still the thought panicked her and began to drag her away from the edge between consciousness and sleep.

Her saviour's next words weren't exactly comforting. She expected her to learn by experience so perhaps she would help to land her in conflicts to test her! No! No, she means sparring most likely. She'll spar with me like Matthew did and I'll learn that way so that I can manage in a real situation, she reassured herself before her mind could conjure up any more terrifying thoughts. This Web would teach her what she could and then she'd be able to help herself, or at least so she hoped. The idea was comforting. It meant that she was able to relax a little once more. Relaxation was something that she'd need if she was going to get any rest.

Her more sensible line of thinking proved to be correct as Web's words implied that she would indeed be fighting her in order to teach her. The idea of bruises didn't bother her. Dancing hadn't always been a smooth operation for her. She had sustained many bruises as she learned her art, banging limbs against things and losing her balance with painful consequences before she improved. A little pain was certainly somthing that she could deal with.

The woman's final words, before she dumped a blanket on top of her, gave Caela some food for thought. Closing her eyes, she wondered what the second lesson would be. Hopefully it wouldn't be as stressful as learning the first lesson had been. She was glad to have learned such an important lesson though. She was strong. She hadn't broken under the stress of what had happened and almost happened. Temporarily she had snapped but she had come back from it quickly although not completely. It was something that was likely to haunt her nights for some time to come.

Although her eyes were closed, the dancer was highly aware of the other woman in the room. She wasn't particularly loud but there were many little sounds that reached Caela's ears. The sound of objects being put down, the rustle of clothing, quiet breathing, she heard it all. When the older woman spoke, the dancer jumped slightly, eyes flickering open and shut in the space of a tick. She was being left alone. Her heartbeat quickened. The woman would be back, she had nothing to worry about. She was safe here in the tavern, nobody would disturb her here.

The young woman was left alone with her thoughts and the hum of activity coming from beneath her. The noise was much softer from here, muffled. There was no way to pick up on individual sounds, they all merged together, indistinct. The sound was soothingly repetitive.

****

She did not know when the other woman came back and she did not know for how long she had slept. Her mind clung to the images that had occupied her dreams, trying to make sense of them now in the first moment of consciousness. Two scenes, maybe one dream or two were all that she could remember. She didn't know which had come first or if she had dreamed of more things. Her mother had been in one, taking Caela's place in the earlier attack. The men had been bigger and she herself had become the rescuer. It was a jumble of things that made no sense in an awake state but she knew that she had been laughed at and her mother's throat cut. There had been red everywhere and then there had been laughing faces from the past, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

The laughter became strange, unnatural. It grew to sound like an unpleasant strumming noise and she cringed away from it in her dream. It took her a few moments to realise that the sound had followed her into the waking world. It was a real thing. The noise was in the room with her. Opening her eyes, she found that the room was still lit by artificial light. It was still dark outside it seemed so not much time could have passed. The dancer's gaze fell on the figure of a woman sitting beside a table and it took her a chime to remember who she was. Web, the woman who had saved her. The sound was coming from her direction and Caela noticed that she was holding something in her hands.

Sitting up, she stared at the object frowning. It was an instrument that she'd seen before although she didn't know what it was called. She was fairly sure that it wasn't supposed to sound like that though. That explained the horrible sound.

"Is that you playing the, uh... I can't remember what it's called?" she asked, resisting the urge to plug her ears against the sound. Maybe she would stop playing now that Caela was awake. The dancer would hate to have to inform her that she didn't much like her playing, if it could even be called that.

Word Count1002 words

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[Zandelia]

When she returned the girl was sound asleep, breathing shallow but even as she leant over her and pulled the covers into place for a better covering. She had clearly suffered a shock or two and of there was anything she knew it was that she would need warmth, rest and sustenance. She had covered the last two, the first was easier in the heat of the summer yet the blanket would still help add weight to it. She didn’t know how long Caela would rest for, it could be a Bell or even a day - people were always funny when put under stress. In her experience they reacted uniquely and as such she set about making herself as comfortable as possible. There was no threat here, nothing to be concerned over. She pulled the chair out from the table a little further and pulled what weapons she still had about her person out and placed them upon the table in a rough jumbled heap.

She pulled her gauntlets off and set them upon the table quietly after a few fumbles with the buckles and a sucking sound as the sweat stained interior was pulled free. She flexed her fingers, rotating her wrists as the skin enjoyed the caress of the free air for the first time that day. Fingers pulled at her cloak and toe it free to drape it across the back of the chair. There was little else she could remove without causing a stir upon Caela’s waking and she wished to avoid sending the wrong message. She snorted softly at that, wondering whether it was the gods sense of humor that seemed to throw her together with younger women. Though, if she were honest, an older one would probably be worse. She shook her head and set about laying the fire and the mechanical process of breathing it into life. She squatted before it and felt the heat beginning to increase with the palms of her hands.

“There, too hot for me perhaps but perhaps a warm room will make her feel better. Besides, fire is good to think with isn’t it old woman” she asked herself as she stared into the flames.

Chief of her thoughts were the methods of how she was going to make good her offer to the girl upon the bed. She glanced over her shoulder to see her roll over and toss slightly. It was not so much that it couldn’t be done, she had had worse to work with in the past. It was more to do with the actual progression to be taken. She doubted the girl had much experience with weapons outside of watching them be used. Fighting was both skill and mentality - which one to start with? What was best? Such things dominated her mind as the green orb reflected the dancing flames before being shocked out of it by a rap at the door. She pushed herself up with a groan and crossed the boards with the occasional creak to open it and accept the instrument.

“Here, for your trouble” she placed 2 gold into the boy’s hand and closed the door before any words could escape his lips.

She placed the case upon the table, worn but serviceable and well made, opening it with a fond smile. Her fingers traced the wood within, feeling the shape and the smooth texture. It was one of the best presents that she could have been given she knew as she pulled it out gently with both hands and sat upon the chair with ankles crossed and upon the corner of the table. The body of the lute was rested against her abdomen and she strummed it softly so as to keep the noise as quiet as possible. Slightly out of tune she thought, plucking the double strings one after the other until she found the discrepancy and began to turn the pegs - slightly too low it was. She plucked them repeatedly as she turned it and finally, after much trial and experimentation, managed tog e tit close to where it should have been from her memory. One final plucking and she sighed before relaxing backwards.

She spent sometime, how long she didn’t truly know, in practicing the plucking technique. The thumb inside her fingers and the fingers learning, seeking out, the string positions and trying to map them to her memory. Her left hand pressed the strings upon the neck here and there occasionally, seeking out the notes randomly. She was not one for composition but she knew what sounded good and bad.

“Though to be fair all of my playing sounds bad at the moment,” she muttered to herself, “what were those chords again?”

She placed her fingers upon the strings, thumb pressing the back of the neck so that she could hold the position as she changed the position of her fingers until she found it. She smiled and plucked the strings, rechecking occasionally to get her bearings. Fingers moved, taunting n their terribly noisy journey until another rhythm of notes was found and accepted as partially correct - if poorly played. It was as she was trying to work her way through a song from her past - a simple tune - that the words met her ears. She chuckled and ceased her playing.

“Lute, it is a lute. I know, I play it poorly but in time…perhaps better. We will see. Did you sleep well? Do you need further rest or were you wanting to begin your lessons? I can’t teach you much in here, however, some things I can impart. In return perhaps you can show me some dancing no? No one here to see it murdered by myself too” she stated as she pushed herself up and placed the instrument reverently into its case and closed it once more.

“Do you even have a weapon?” she asked, tilting her head as she pulled a dagger from the table and hefted it in her hand, she flipped it and offered it hilt-first to the woman.

“First lesson anyway, you grip it by the handle and don’t forget it. Go ahead, feel it out. Get a sense of the balance and the weight of it in your palm. Try out some grips and I’ll see if I can’t show you a proper one if you don’t get it right”

“Or I can teach you how to throw a punch with the best of them, despite your build. Strength is more than just raw power after all” she frowned slightly at that, true or not it was still something she disliked saying. It made her sound far too philosophical.